


Drunk on Sunlight

by imaweirdkid



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A fix-it to the events of this episode, F/M, Just in case they fuck it up more, One Shot, Post 08x04, This is set after the end of the series, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaweirdkid/pseuds/imaweirdkid
Summary: Cersei is dead. Brienne is back in Tarth. And Jamie? Jamie needs to set some things right.A would-be fix-it in case the ending leaves us all wanting.





	Drunk on Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so I have no idea what will happen in the next two episodes, but chances are it will break my heart even worse than this episode did, so I wrote a fix-it for what will inevitably be awful TV writing (I am still hoping they will do the right thing). 
> 
> This is set after the finale. No idea who will sit on the iron throne, the only thing this presupposes is that they kill Cersei and Jamie helps to bring this about in some way. Also it's not beta'd because of course it's not. Anyway, enjoy.

She was already on her way back when she spotted the figure walking toward her. At first she was certain it was Pod or even just one of the surrounding farmers going for a walk by themselves like she was. But as he came closer, his stride was hard to mistake for another’s. She wasn’t sure what to expect from him. She’d heard of the events at King’s Landing. Heard of the trial they’d put him on. Had even considered going there to defend him. But in the end, she had had no other option than to return home to Tarth. 

As he drew nearer, she saw that he was still as rough looking as he had been in Winterfell and the memory of that night when he’d left her came as unbidden as it was unwelcome. Most of her days, she tried to forget that night like so many painful things. Just one more hurt to ignore. But him being here made it difficult not to think of the time they’d spent in Winterfell and the quick inevitable end.

He was in shouting distance of her now. She wasn’t sure she wanted to speak to him really and yet her feet kept carrying her forward slowly, slowly closer to him until they were mere feet away from each other. The strong sea winds blew around them and Brienne pulled her coat and the furs closer around her body. 

“Hail, my Lady,” he said. And she could hear the familiar twist in it, the same slight taunt she’d grown so accustomed to. 

“And what brings you here, Kingslayer?” she asked. The title out of her own lips made her shiver as much as the wind. The hurt had not subsided, she thought. If anything, not looking at it too closely had made the wound fester. And if his expression was anything to go by he could see it in her eyes.

“I—,” he seemed shy suddenly, hesitant, as if he had no plan beyond coming here and seeing her. “I came to see how you were. In Winterfell, I was informed you had departed rather quickly for health reasons and I... Well, I—“

He stopped short, uncertain of how to continue. Finally, she took mercy on him.

“You knew I would not abandon my post but for serious matters,” she finished.

“Indeed.”

“The Lady Sansa seemed to have few enemies left after what happened in King’s Landing, so I took my leave to return to my family home. And you have seen that I am alive and well, so there is no need to be concerned any longer.”

She hoped he would leave. She hoped he would kiss her.

Instead, he nodded and looked away toward the sea. They were close enough that she could study his face but not so much so as to reach out and touch him.

Probably for the best, she thought. Temptation may have proofed to much in this instance. For all the talk of his handsome face before the war, she thought the battle worn look suited him well. The way he was looking out to the sea, he seemed more at ease than she’d ever seen him. And a part of her thought, we could stay here like this. You could find peace. But she knew it was all for naught. Who knew what the future would bring. And in any case, he had made his choices. And she had made hers.

Finally, he cleared his throat and met her gaze once more.

“I also came to apologise,” he began, “for the way I lef—“

“There is no need,” she interrupted him. He stopped, closed his mouth and was about to open it again, when she went on.

“Really. There is no need for apologies. You did what you had to do, Ser Jamie. And from the news that have travelled here, you have succeeded. There is no need to cry over spilt milk. The battle was hard for us all and with death so imminent, I am sure we can all agree that every one of us made some rather regrettable choices.” She had lost her honour begging the first time, she would retake it now given the chance.

But his gaze had softened and his eyes once again looked like they had in Winterfell. Like he could see right through her.

“I could never regret you, Ser Brienne,” he said simply.

And of all the unfair things to say to her, this was the most hurtful. To use her title so. She did not have words for him. 

She realised she was fighting tears and this was just the last straw. She would not cry again. Not in front of him and not at all. She was a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” she responded instead.

He looked upon her and finally, very slowly, made to step toward her.

“Would it be easier if I insulted you?” he asked.

And she couldn’t help but snort as she tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks that had escaped without her noticing. 

“It would be easier if you pissed off to where you came from,” she answered honestly. One hand touched her face and wiped at the tears. It wasn’t her own.

“How could I leave a crying wench. Did I not take an oath to rescue crying maidens?”

“I am not quite the maiden I was if you recall.” 

“I recall,” he said softly.

She huffed. She held onto his hand on her face. A strange mirroring of that night in Winterfell when she had begged and begged him not to go. 

He looked at her now with the same intensity she had felt then.

“I would not presume that I am still welcome here,” he began, ”but if there is any possibility at all that you perhaps did not merely act on high spirits after the battle but on deeper feelings then I would ask for another chance to be by your side.”

She thought back to the days following his departure. The things she had wanted to say to him. The things she had wanted to yell at him. She couldn’t conjure any of them right now it seemed. He had taken her feelings and her honour and besmirched them both. And strangely, it was her honour that had made her furious with him. She had fought so hard for it and she felt he had taken it with him to King's Landing.

“You made me beg,” she said, holding his gaze.

“I know,” he said seriously.

“I do not beg,” she told him.

“I know this, too,” he answered, “and I will never make you beg again, I swear it.”

He hesitated.

“Unless you want me to.”

And then he winked, the bastard. 

She smiled against her will. This at least was familiar.

“In your dreams.”

He smiled back.

“Yes, certainly there.” His eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Can I kiss you?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You didn’t ask last time.”

“I am trying to better myself.”

“A lost cause really.”

“Hm,” he agreed and rose to his tiptoes to kiss her, his hand sliding into her hair. She closed her eyes.

It wasn’t until his body touched her stomach that she realised she was about to have another conversation. She could feel him freeze against her lips. And after a couple of seconds he let go of her slowly and his gaze zeroed in on her protruding stomach which had been well hidden under the heavy cloak and fur.

“You—“

He seemed too stunned for words. His hand slid down her neck and all the way down her chest to come to a tentative halt on her waist. Careful, as if he didn't quite believe his eyes.

“I— We—“

“If you are about to insult my honour by asking if it is yours, I swear, you will sleep with the fish tonight.”

He met her eyes.

“The health reasons…,” he whispered, "this is why..."

“I told you I wasn’t quite the maiden I was.” 

His face broke into the most breathtaking smile. As he looked at her in awe, he seemed to be both man and boy at once, as if nothing was weighing him down in his delight. The thought from before occurred to her again. We could stay here. We could find peace. And when he rose up to meet her again, to kiss her like she was an oasis in the desert, she let him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
